THIS IS ME!!

The other day a friend made a comment to me, that some people probably couldn't "handle" me. I just laughed it off thinking whatever, probably true.  But today I was doing my quiet time and I thought, "Hmmm what am I agreeing to when I hear that?" 

What lies do I attach to that statement? Am I too much? Not enough? Too this or too that? Do I need to act differently around others, according to their personal tastes? Do I minimize myself so I can make my personality more digestible for them? Is that what I would tell my daughter to do?

"Hey, Lakin, I don't want you to seem too confident, too sure of yourself, or be a strong leader because it might be hard for some people to "handle". So make it a point to know what everyone in the room likes and adjust yourself around that so you will be more liked."

Just thinking about saying those words to her gives me a stomach ache! I can't imagine anyone telling their son, "try not to be too strong today honey or in charge. It might be hard for others to be around you." Blah!!!

Don't get me wrong, I am not blind to my fussy habits or high maintenance traits. But at this point in my life, I am coming to believe THIS IS ME and I am kinda okay with it! Sure there are things I would like to get better at (I tried to lower my voice and sounded like Barry White with a cold) and of course God is constantly working on my heart. But let's be honest, if I am not your cup of tea, rather than try to change or poke at me, you can always make the choice to smile and walk away. No harm, no foul. 

More and more, I want to spend time with people who are FOR ME! Who want me to be the best Kimberley I can be! They see my faults, look past my mess, over my need for control on certain things, embrace my lack of cooking and technology skills, my fast talking, not completing sentences, and love me anyway! I want to hang out with people who won't find little ways to chip away at my self-worth and make me feel less than. They see my heart and know that there is more to me than my "strong" personality and mixed up sayings. (Fold like a piano or slick as a board could be real right?) 

Sometimes these friends will have to pull me aside and let me know, "Hey Kimberley, you missed the mark on that one or 'That did not come off like you wanted it to'. Feedback with intentional love and grace is invaluable!!

Sticks and stone will break my bones and WORDS can be just as devastating. My prayer is to try to look at people, as their own unique masterpieces, created by a loving Heavenly Father, who doesn't make mistakes. And if for some reason I can't, I can choose to just smile and walk away, not tear down. 

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." Psalm 139:13-14.

What is Propel?

Many people are asking what Propel is all about? And it's actually hard to put into words. Is it a women's group? Yes, we are all ladies. Is it a Bible study? Kind of because everything we talk about is grounded in scripture. Do we chat in small groups and have food? Most definitely! Think taco bar :) But these descriptions skim the surface because they don't adequately give the full picture of what happens, what goes on, or what you feel when you leave...........Propel is just MORE!!!

Propel is a community that becomes stronger and stronger over time. 

You never leave the night thinking, "What a complete waste of time!" 

It's worth the 45 minute drive

leaving the dinner on the stove

the laundry undone

the family complaining

It's time for you to recharge

to just be you

to breathe

to be seen!

Propel is friendships 

sharing laughter and tears 

heartache and fears

letting go of the hurts and holding tight to the truths

Propel is being a part of something bigger than yourself

It's watching women transform in front of your eyes

Bursting out of cocoons into beautiful butterflies 

Spreading their wings

some flying for the first time

Propel is encouragement from others that you are enough

That you were created for a purpose to be lived

Have a passion within you waiting to be unleashed

A potential for you to possess, new mountains to climb

Propel is a hug that makes you know you are not alone

That you will always have a tribe, a herd of females

Making a circle around you when you are wounded

Stomping their feet in warning 

against those who would attack

Propel is different

we fight against the norms

Women can get along

cheer each other on

Complete not compete!

Propel is love

It is hope

It is possibilities

It is a home away from home! 

"I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!" 2 Corinthians 6:11-13 (The Message)

Excited To See You!

The other day, I ran into a friend unexpectedly. She was standing on the sidelines of the soccer game I was attending and when I saw her I got so excited! I yelled her name, gave her a big hug, and started chatting away. You would think we hadn't seen each other in months but we actually went to dinner together only three weeks ago. My friend is encouraging, kind, and loves me for who I am. We are transparent with other, talk about our struggles and our screw-ups, and try to figure out how God is shaping us into the person He created us to be. Sometimes we have to call each other out on our junk or give a different perspective but it's done lovingly and with the best intentions. When I went home that night I was thanking God for my friend and I burst into tears. I was so overwhelmed because, in my mind, I saw snapshots of many people that He has placed in my life to love me, of which I am truly, truly grateful for.

But then I saw an image of Jesus, with His hands stretched out wide and a huge smile on His face, saying, "Kimberley, I AM so excited to see you! I love you desperately and can't wait for you to share your day with me. I never get tired of you placing all your troubles at my feet and letting me carry the load. Sometimes, lessons and character building in your life is painful but necessary. I promise to never judge or look down on you. I am very thankful you are my child and can't imagine not being a part of your life!"

I am in awe that the feelings I get when seeing people I enjoy; excitement, happiness, warm fuzzies, and laughter, will be ten-fold when I see my creator! I won't have to be on my best behavior, hold up a mask, or try a bunch of silly things to fit in. I can just run into His arms and know that I am loved beyond measure! That's pretty amazing if you ask me!

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!" 1 John 3:1

Delta Delta Delta

Sororities and fraternities pretty much have a bad reputation most of the time. With all the movies, Saturday night live skits, news coverage, and hazing ridiculousness, the Greek organizations often fulfill their infamous stereotypes. I, myself, poke fun when I sheepishly admit that I joined a very well-known sorority in college. But what people don't take into account are the benefits of being a part of Greek life. One of them being the people you meet and friendships you make that can last a lifetime.

I graduated from college almost 20 years ago and the friendships I made in my sorority are ones I still treasure to this day. The memories of our time living in the dorm together, dressing up for formals, going to parties, laughing at the antics of the frat boys, are all fun to reminisce about but the bonds have grown stronger since we have graduated. It’s the weddings we have shared together, the birthdays, baby showers, kid functions, Christmas parties, even the funerals and other milestones that have made these woman so important to me. It’s being able to appreciate the lines that are etched a little deeper in our faces, because of the many joyful events as well as the sorrows we have had to endure. It's accepting each other for who were are and respecting the different journeys we are all on. It's knowing that I might not see them often but when I do it’s like wrapping myself up in warm fuzzy blanket of comfort. Being a part of a sorority is sometimes what you see on TV, but for me it has been sharing life, tears, laughter, joy, heartache, with some pretty AMAZING people!  Calling them sisters is not too strong of a word for how I feel about them. 

She Was Only 20!

I walked in the front door of my house, anticipating a surprise from my parents. I was home for Christmas vacation after a crazy semester in college and treacherous finals. My mom had been acting weird on the phone the last couple of times I talked to her. I was thoroughly convinced she was keeping something from me like a new scooter or my brother was in town. I called back to my roommate as she dropped me off, “I will let you know the minute I find out!” I threw my stuff in the entryway and looked up at my mom with excitement. “Hey what’s going on?” “My mom hurriedly glanced down as she took a deep breath, “Kimberley, I have something to tell you. There was a terrible accident. Carri was in a car accident. She didn’t make it. Carri passed away.” Instantly dazed I flippantly replied, “Carri? What Carri?” My mom cocked her head in surprise, “Kimberley, your Carri. Your best friend!” Denial set in immediately. I shook my head back and forth trying to say no, but the only thing that came out was, “I don’t have a Carrie. Not one that would be dead.”

The first time I met her we were 13 years old. I remember exactly what she was wearing-jeans and a white flowered jean jacket. I remember thinking, that girl is short. And shy. Extremely shy. I could tell she was uncomfortable with herself by the way she kind of tucked her head down and tried to avoid eye contact at all costs. We were complete opposites. I was loud and attention needy to her timid and quiet demeanor. Over the next seven years we would form a unique friendship. Sometimes we were close as sisters, other times we lived in our own separate worlds checking in every once in awhile but not really having to connect all the time.

Her family was as dysfunctional as mine but sometimes it was more fun to be around other’s craziness than your own. Her dad was an alcoholic who would start drinking the minute he got off work. By the time dinner was over he was pretty wasted. He would go outside in the backyard and play songs on his guitar. Carri and I would sit and listen to him for hours. Our favorites were his renditions of James Taylor and John Denver. Her step mom Becky always went out of her way to make me feel better. If I got into a fight with my parents I would literally run away to their house. Becky never lectured me on being a sassy teenager or took sides. She knew I was hurting and would buy me Oreo cookies, chocolate milk, and something Garfield. Carri’s younger brother, Adam, had just turned one when I first started hanging out with the family. (He is 30 now)

My mom grabbed my arms as to physically shake me back into reality. “Kimberley, Carrie is gone.” I stepped back and recoiled from her touch. My skin crawled at her intrusion of trying to force me into believing what she was saying. My mind went numb. Shock ran through every muscle fiber in my body slowly turning off any feelings that were trying to push through. My soul was rejecting the authenticity of my mom’s statement. Without any emotion, I announced, “I am going to go take a shower.” Puzzled my mom slowly repeated back, “A shower? Are you okay? Do you need me to do something?” No, I just need to take a shower. Robotically, I went through the motions of an act I had done a thousand times before, my body on cruise control. My mind was shut off not even trying to process the last fifteen minutes. Darkness crept in and I screamed for my mom. She rushed in, “What, what’s wrong?” I jolted back to my state of shock and replied, “Nothing, I just want you to sit in here with me.” I had briefly glimpsed the horror of reality and my psyche had quickly devoured further exploration of the truth. 

After my shower I knew I had to go to Carri’s house and see her family. I have often tried to remember what I was thinking or feeling during that ten-minute drive…I felt...nothing, absolutely nothing. I walked up to the door and before I could knock, her family threw open the door. Like an injured animal I looked into her dad’s eyes begging him to release me from this anguish by simply saying, “Kimberley there is no truth to this story. Carri is fine.” Adam, her then seven-year-old brother threw his arms around me crying, “Kimberley, Carri is dead! Did you know Carri is dead? Does this mean you are going to be my sister?” I crumbled in the doorway; uncontrollable sobs tore through my body piercing through the shock. For the first time I felt the veil of denial slowly start to disintegrate. Seeing her family made this terrifying situation all too real. 

Only four months before we were sitting outside at her house in our usual spots listening to Rick, her dad, play the guitar. She glanced up at me and out of the blue said, “Kimberley if I died would you want my car?” Jokingly I replied,” Are you kidding that thing is a piece of junk give it to Bernice she needs a car.” “Would you want my stereo?” Again I blew her off, “No, Adam is attached to that you would have to give it to him.” She persisted on, “Well what would you like of mine if I died?” “Carri, why are you talking like this? We are only twenty years old. We are not going to die for a long time. I don’t want anything of yours.” “You never know Kimberley,” she huffed, “but I do know exactly how I want my funeral.”

More than slightly annoyed I told her, “I am not going to have this conversation with you anymore, Carri. This is silly you are being so morbid.” She sarcastically shot back, “You are my best friend you don’t want anything of mine if I died and you don’t want to even listen to what I would want?” I never liked to see her upset so I gave in. “Fine how would you like your funeral to go?’ Over the next hour Carri gave me explicit details from her favorite flowers, to what she wanted to wear, the songs, the singers, where and who should get all her stuff, if she should happen to die. I listen with half an ear wondering where all of this is coming from and why on earth she felt like she needed to talk about all of this. We were only twenty! The next morning as I was getting in my car to drive back up to college, she gave me a card. I didn’t have a chance to read it until I a few days later. The card was titled Its So Hard To Say Goodbye. I thought it was a pretty intense card to give me since I was just a few hours away but I chalked it up to Carri being dramatic.

......“She was driving down to Douglas to visit her boyfriend. She was in the passenger seat of an old car that didn’t have shoulder belts only a lap belt. The car popped a tire and the lady who was driving lost control of the car and jumped onto the medium. The car flipped over a few times and since Carri didn’t have her seat belt on half her body went out of the car. As the car rolled it crushed her. When the paramedics got there she was still alive…she was moaning.”

Again I tried to reject all of this information. I knew this couldn't be true because Carri always wore her seat belt. Always! In fact she was constantly getting on to me because I didn’t wear mine. She would not have ridden in a car without putting on her seat belt If they got this part of the story incorrect maybe the other part, like that she is dead, was wrong. They are mistaken, she is not dead! "Kimberley, the driver said right before the tire popped, Carri had commented on how safe she felt in the car because it was so old and big. She felt so safe that since the car didn’t have a shoulder belt she wouldn’t wear the lap belt either. What’s the point? Right? Older cars are made of steel. Oh, by the way we think the driver was high on cocaine but we can’t really prove it because the police didn’t take her blood at the scene."

I mumbled this can't be true, it doesn't make any sense. "We have a ticket for you to fly with us to Ohio where we will bury her. We leave at 6 am. So you need to go home and pack. Kimberley are you getting this? We leave at 6 am tomorrow okay?" "Okay?" No I am not okay!!! Will I ever be okay again? Will anything ever be okay? I just lost my best friend….she was only 20!!

I buried my best friend in Ohio on December 19, 1992. I flew back to Tucson a few days later and celebrated her 21st birthday, Christmas Eve, without her.....

God, I Want This One!

A few years ago, I was challenged to have a conversation with God about one of my friends who was not a believer. Immediately one of my best friends came to mind and I when I got home I prayed, hard. After I finished, I was kind of emotional because of how much this guy means to me, realizing he doesn't know Jesus. God nudged me, "Why don't you tell him what you prayed to me?" Oh no God, he will think I am crazy. I do not want to pick a fight with him or make him uncomfortable. I don't want to him to feel bad or that he has to walk on eggshells around me because of what I believe. I prayed for him that should be good. "Kimberley, I am not here for your comfort or his. I want him to know what you prayed. Share your heart with him...no matter the cost."

MY LETTER

Mark,

I know this might make you uncomfortable but I have to let you know what is on my heart. My Bible study leader asked, "Is there anyone that doesn't know God that you want to tell God what they mean to you?" Immediately your name popped into my head. So here is what I said...

"God, my friend Mark is very important to me. He is one of my best friends. We have known each other since we were thirteen years old, over 25 years. We have fought, laughed, partied, been through bad relationships together, shared secrets, kept secrets, talked a lot, not talked for awhile, but still we put up with each other.  We used to spend Thanksgivings together with our other friend having our own little dinner and playing games. We walked home everyday from school together and spent a lot of time at each others' houses.  He knows I am hard headed and opinionated but very loyal. I told one boyfriend if he didn't like Mark I would break up with him because this friend comes first. Up at college I was having a really hard time and in walked Mark into my work. Immediately my spirits lifted because I needed a friend and he was there. Did I mention he faced a giant for me? (My ex-boyfriend who was 6'4 and 200lbs). Mark went to him and told him how much he had hurt me knowing that my ex could crumple him into a ball.

I have watched him grow into a man of integrity, hard working, a great father and got to witness him marry his best friend. I love his wife, she is just the right amount of spice for him :) I know I can call him for anything and he would be there for me or my family. Yes God, he means a lot to me. I gave my son his middle name...

Lord, I want him to experience your love that will fill that void in his heart. I want him to be in the presence of the King. I want to see him seated next to you in heaven. I want his family to spend eternity with you and know there is something more to this life. God I know you know who he is because you created him BUT this is what he means to me...he is one of my best friends! God, I want this one in heaven with you!"

I just wanted to tell you what you mean to me. 
Love, Kimberley

"I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth." 1 Timothy 2:1-4